Lost Creek Hollow Elephant Gun

More Blackthorns? At first, Jackalope pricked his ears with interest, before he sighed, rolling his eyes and turning them back slightly in bemusement. He laughed a dry, brittle laugh and shrugged one shoulder. "Nah, we probably are related," He admitted wryly. "Big family. There were 9 in my litter alone, and I have no idea where the rest of them have gone- but we tend to scatter into the wind to terrorize the world as soon as we hit the yearling mark," He said. Still, the tone of his voice was fairly flat, indicating that he had left Blackthorn Vale to get away from the confines of being surrounded by family- and had no intention of joining up with them all again. Most of his older siblings had left when they'd been young anyway, so apart from the few who stayed back, he had no idea which Blackthorns might have come this way, nor would he have ever met them either. Unless one of his littermates had made their way in this direction, it was unlikely that he'd know aby of the Blackthorns in this Redhawks pack. 

He studied Terance's voice and features for any indication that he might have been lying when he assured Jackalope that there were not only a few other adults, but plenty of them. His reasoning for mentioning the kids first was decent enough- and he supposed that a father had the right to be proud of his kids if they weren't total disappointments. And sure- if they were already chomping at the bit to patrol, then they couldn't be too childish, right? Maybe Terance was the kind of father that didn't let his kids run loose and wild, and started training them in their natural discipline as soon as they were able to do so. Jackalope certainly hoped so. He really did not want to have to put up with a bunch of entitled, spoiled brats. They'd be too much like him, and he didn't like copycats. 

It seemed that the pack had the basic trades that every pack needed, save perhaps for a medic. Jackalope wouldn't have been any help in that area, really. So when Terance asked him about his own skills, he tilted his head to the side, allowing it to crack audibly, as though to punctuate the point that he was a tough guy. "Bit of all those, really," He said casually. "Best off as a scout; got a better sense of direction than anyone I know, and a memory for terrain. I could probably list the last 30 brooks I've crossed and point you right to them too." He bragged immodestly- his proficiency matched only by his ego. "I travel fast, and I definitely don't starve while I go," He said. "I can patrol as a guardian but it's stupid boring always just going in the same oddly shaped circle every day. I'd be better off scouting." He said frankly, tilting his head in the other direction and cracking his neck on that side as well.